"

"Thus shall your son's defiant spirit be broken," said Ameni; "But for
you, if you have patience, new joys shall arise."

"I thank thee again," said Setchem. "But something yet remains to be
said. I know that I am wasting the time that thou dost devote to thy
family, and I remember thy saying once that here in Thebes thou wert
like a pack-Horse with his load taken off, and free to wander over a
green meadow. I will not disturb thee much longer--but the Gods sent me
such a wonderful vision. Paaker would not listen to me, and I went back
into my room full of sorrow; and when at last, after the sun had risen,
I fell asleep for a few minutes, I dreamed I saw before me the poet
Pentaur, who is wonderfully like my dead husband in appearance and in
voice. Paaker went up to him, and abused him violently, and threatened
him with his fist; the priest raised his arms in prayer, just as I saw
him yesterday at the festival--but not in devotion, but to seize Paaker,
and wrestle with him. The struggle did not last long, for Paaker seemed
to shrink up, and lost his human form, and fell at the poet's feet--not
my son, but a shapeless lump of clay such as the potter uses to make
jars of."

"A strange dream!" exclaimed Ameni, not without agitation. "A very
strange dream, but it bodes you good. Clay, Setchem, is yielding, and
clearly indicates that which the Gods prepare for you. The Immortals
will give you a new and a better son instead of the old one, but it is
not revealed to me by what means. Go now, and sacrifice to the Gods, and
trust to the wisdom of those who guide the life of the universe, and of
all mortal creatures. Yet--I would give you one more word of advice. If
Paaker comes to you repentant, receive him kindly, and let me know; but
if he will not yield, close your rooms against him, and let him depart
without taking leave of you."

When Setchem, much encouraged, was gone away, Ameni said to himself:

"She will find splendid compensation for this coarse scoundrel, and
she shall not spoil the tool we need to strike our blow. I have often
doubted how far dreams do, indeed, foretell the future, but to-day my
faith in them is increased. Certainly a mother's heart sees farther than
that of any other human being."

At the door of her house Setchem came up with her son's chariot.
They saw each other, but both looked away, for they could not meet
affectionately, and would not meet coldly. As the horses outran the
litter-bea